


The last night

by GuraKruor



Category: Tenkuu no Escaflowne | The Vision of Escaflowne
Genre: Comedy, Gen, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 06:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13048080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuraKruor/pseuds/GuraKruor
Summary: Disoriented and alone in an unknown inn room, Dilandau tries to know what happened last night.





	The last night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caustic Curtsy](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Caustic+Curtsy).



> Hey there causticcurtsy! I hope you to have a Merry Winter and a Happy New Year ~
> 
> This fic is my gift to you for the NSFW interchange, it’s not as adult as expected but as you are also a fellow Dilandau fan I hope you to find this story of your liking, sorry for the grammar —spanish is my native language.

A cold water drop fell on his pale face, lazily he opened his red eyes and as soon as light came to his vision he was greeted by a terrible headache. The young commander jumped from the spot he was lying on, fists up and ready to fight whatever was thrown at him before having immense nausea. He tried to not empty his stomach’s content but failed miserably and vomited in the carpet he was standing on, he fell to the ground and cushioned the hit with his hands.

At this point he had already started to take a grasp about the details of the place he was in; passing his clammy fingers between his short silver locks he noticed that it was an unknown room. Dilandau stood on his feet as steady as he could and from that point could see outside through a window with white curtains. By the look of the sheets on the bed he was sleeping there before waking up and performing what any capable Zaibach soldier should do when finding themselves on a strange place.

He sat on the bed and found his leather jacket on the floor, he still had his pants on but his shirt and diadem were missing, the same was with his boots; at least he had his dogtags around the neck and found himself clenching them with his left hand. Dilandau touched the rug with his toes and put his head between his knees to fight the nausea; he could stay like that for a while, for the looks of it he wasn’t in a dangerous place so it was possible to wait.

He closed his eyes and tried to remember how he ended up in such situation but the further he went his headache worsened so he choose to wait for his body to stabilize. By the smell from his mouth he had drank a lot of vino, despite the stench of vomit it was quite recognizable the signature essence of his favourite drink so that was it; he had arrived drunk... but how?

That was the important question, he was a seasoned drinker so it was quite obvious that he had taken lots of vino despite knowing his limits; after that he somehow ended up in that room, the discarded bottle near the window was a proof. After what his body told him were twenty minutes, the young commander rose from the bed and went to the bathroom to relieve himself. When he returned to the room it was easier to find each discarded clothing item to retrieve them; he dressed as fine as he could and noticed he was in fact unarmed —or probably someone had stolen his sword. It seemed really odd that the room was locked from the outside and for the key to be in a table next to the bed.

Dilandau closed the door and, with the key and bottle of vino, walked down the stairs searching for the person in charge; maybe they had his sword for some ‘no weapons’ policy. The place looked clean and decent, so it was possible he wasn’t in the lower neighbourhoods of the capitol, in any case it wasn’t as if he had ended up roaming around those places... right?

The person in charge was a serious old man; he was just giving the key of another room to a client when the young commander arrived to his post. The man observed Dilandau and no recognition could be seen in his features, at least his reputation could be intact —hopefully.

“I am here to hand you the key of my room and find some answers,” he wasn’t somebody accustomed to manners, after putting the key in the counter the man took it and went for his record book.

“Please sign your leave here,” he handed him a pen and read the log, “the fee was covered last night.”

Dilandau’s initials were written fast in a way he didn’t recognized, the calligraphy was different and even when drunk he had some writing patterns so somebody else had booked him in that room. He signed his leave with his initials —D.A.—, as if he were to write his complete name in a godforsaken place.

“It might be an odd question,” he put the pen in the counter, “but by any chance did I arrived with somebody else last night?”

The man couldn’t be less interested on the commander; he arranged the record book the same way it was before turning it to the youngster and after some minutes he told: “My granddaughter was in charge last night, if it is important I can ask her.”

_I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important, you nimrod!_ He wanted to shout at the old man but refrained of doing so and went for a nice “It is important, could you please ask her to come here?”

The man rolled his eyes and shouted somebody’s name after opening a door behind his counter; some minutes later a woman appeared there and with hushed words was filled in by her grandfather.

“Ah, yeah I remember you,” she nodded, “and yes, you weren’t alone last night.”

“Do you remember who was I with? Surely not the name, but how did they looked..., “he asked as if he were getting some report, with the best poker face he could pull.

“Hmm, let me see...” she moved her eyes here and there, trying to remember “Well, I remember it was a guy, that’s for sure.”

“Alright, it was some guy... what was he wearing?” he was starting to fill the voids in his memory.

“Ah, he was a soldier, he wore a variation of your uniform and was all the time calling you Lord something this and that.”

The woman didn’t find his question strange, so it was probably because lots of people came to her with this kind of dilemma. It wasn’t reassuring to him, what if he had a one night stand and couldn’t even know with whom? What if the guy had some kind of disease and now he was ill? At this point somebody was probably proclaiming to have taken The Commander of the Dragonslayers to his bed and now he was the laugh stock of the barracks.

“How about hair or eye colour...?” he knew it was probably a long shot, but it was worth the try.

“To be honest I wasn’t looking at him that much, it was just any normal couple of drunkards, the usual in this kind of business; and from you both **you’re** the one that sticks out in a crowd like a sore thumb.”

“Then how much do you remember?” he crossed his arms but still had the bottle on his hand.

“Let’s see, you guys arrived here around three in the morning and in the company of some lad with a pretty smile. You”, she pointed at him, “were so wasted that started to sing some childish rhyme,” she chuckled a little.

“After registering you, keeping your sword safe and taking the key, I helped you both to reach your room; from the looks of it the other lad wasn’t as drunk as you ‘cause he at least could speak civilly to me and asked for my assistance.”

_Great, aside from taking me to his bed he already said I was a drunken mess_. Dilandau cared **a lot** about his image, he had to keep his composure and made others know who was in charge; he kept listening to the woman.

“I opened the door and helped you get to bed,” that was interesting, she probably knew if he was taken advantage on.

“Suddenly, you took your clothes off and jumped at this lad’s back so I thought it wasn’t my place to be and left,” she made an disinterested pause, “after about ten minutes the lad returned with disarranged clothes to pay for your stay and left.”

_Ten bloody minutes?!_ A lot could’ve happened in that span of time, he needed specifics right now!

The bottle of vino was a clue, from what he knew some even had the name of the place in a sticker somewhere. His had a sticky label that said ‘The laughing cup’, he asked for directions from this point in the capitol and noticed it was in the outskirts of the city.

He sighed and passed a hand on his nape, “Thank you for your cooperation,” he left the hotel and knew where to search next.

It was a normal tavern, not a fancy establishment but nor a shady hideout; at least it looked clean. They were just arranging the tables, tidying up a little; they were far from closing that’s for sure, it was more like a restaurant during day time.

Now that he remembered, he had been celebrating there the beginning of his liberty port; he had been expecting free time for a long time and knew what to do whenever it happened. Knowing this he went inside and searched for the owner of such place, his memory was still fuzzy but he recalled an old woman in the bar and he found her.

“Good morning,” he started, “maybe you don’t remember me but I was here last night and have some questions for you, ma’am.”

“Ja! Mister ‘I can survive your especial’ is back; do you wanna another try to ‘Momma’s poison?’ I still have some,” she grinned.

“Momma’s poison, what do you mean?”

“I see, I told you it could happen but you wanted to try it anyways,” she kept speaking of something he didn’t knew and it was tedious for him.

“Could you please enlighten me? I was here last night and really want to know what happened.”

“Sure sure. You see, young soldiers like you come here all the time and none win against my special; you were with some guys and after some hours one of them challenged you to a drinking contest. You gladly accepted and were pulling it just fine until I served you both Momma’s poison, at your request even if I told you it could cause you memory loss the morning after; to your credit he fainted and you don’t so I guess you’re the winner. You ended up really drunk so one of your friends carried you to an inn I told him.”

_So **that’s how** I ended up there last night!_ He knew it was plausible; he was the type of person to never back off from a challenge and was probably totally eager to prove wrong everyone —including the old woman.

“Do you, by any chance, remember who was the friend who carried me to the inn?”

“It was some lad with a pretty smile, aside from that I can’t recall more you know, soldiers your age come and go daily so it’s hard to keep a record of all; I remember you because you were the first in ten years to ask for Momma’s poison.”

_And again that bloody pretty smile, I swear that if somebody else tells me about that smile I’ll punch them in the face!_ He was tired and lights hurt his eyes yet, he didn’t wanted to delve more into the matter... but it was bugging him anyways.

“Thank you for your time,” and as lunch was being served he stayed to eat and then continued his quest for the truth.

His next stop was the beginning of all: the barracks, it was obvious he was a soldier and that he wasn’t alone. Even if it meant all knew about his nocturne adventure at least they’d said what actually happened, if they started to mock him he’d put them in their place as they deserved: with a fight.

It was midafternoon when he returned; thankfully he was still during liberty port so nobody was actually expecting him to be there: it was better to catch a pray when they weren’t paying attention.

Upon his arrival some soldiers greeted him like usual, polite “Good afternoon, sir” were said here and there. Most soldiers were almost his age —fifteen— and many others were older yet all respected him nonetheless. None had neither guilty nor mocking faces, so it was still possible that ‘pretty smile lad’ hadn’t spilled the beans... yet.

He went to a room reserved for meetings; in the way there he found one of his men —Gatti— and send him to bring the others. 

“Good afternoon, sir” saluted him Chesta, “how do you feel?”

Good to know that at least one of them had the decency to ask; he didn’t answer anyways and was thinking how to approach this matter. He was in front of his men and had to take care of the image he projected to them; subordinates are like animals, give them the smallest proof of weakness and they’ll lose all the respect they had to you.

All sported serious faces, they knew something had happened because otherwise their commander wouldn’t have called for them; they were during liberty port like him, some used civilian clothing and were probably thinking to return home. 

“Good afternoon gentlemen, I summoned you here to speak of an important matter,” he stood in front of them as authoritative as he could, “Yesterday night, as you may recall, I invited you for a few drinks to celebrate our time out of duty.”

He could see recognition in their eyes, so all knew what happened last night! Chesta was the most nervous of all, Guimel was intrigued about what was he going to say next while Dalet looked as if taking this totally seriously, Viole appeared between bored and neutral but Miguel was watching Gatti who tried to not be noticed at all. 

“I don’t know what possessed me yesterday but it won’t happen again, that’s the last time I invite you to a tavern. You’re dismissed except for Chesta, I want to have a word you.”

Chesta, sweet Chesta he’d give him all the answers; he should’ve called him alone in the first place but he needed to see everyone’s expression to have a grasp about what was their part in all this. Chesta was the youngest of the slayers and the one who was easier to take the truth out of him, he could resist any enemy torture like all his men, but all were loyal to him and so had to answer all his questions.

“I want some answers now, Chesta and you can give them to me,” he was the one who usually drank the least.

“Of course, Lord Dilandau!” if he looked nervous before now he was anxious.

“Yesterday night I won a drinking contest against someone and left with another person, I now the how and when, I want to know **who** was there doing **what**.”

“Yesterday night,” he started, “you invited us for a few drinks; we found Yaifa and Ryoun* there, Ryoun challenged you to a drinking contest which you accepted even against Gatti’s advice,” it sounded consisting; he never takes Gatti’s advice.

“After you won you weren’t really fine to go walk alone, so I took you to a nearby inn the owner of the tavern told us to go; everyone else was so wasted that they stayed the night in the pub.”

And now it all made sense, Chesta had lots of redeeming qualities but his smile was something that could melt icebergs; the lad was so pure even if he was trained to kill. 

“The owner of the inn was a nice lady who helped me to take you to a room, to be honest I wouldn’t had took you there but the barracks are really far from there so it was safer to go to the inn. I already had noticed you weren’t acting as usual and when you jumped to my back asking me for a ride like a child I knew it was time for me to leave."

_Oh gods, I slept with **Chesta** of all people, damn me!_ I feel like a pervert. He felt bad in the inside but didn’t let his face to show so.

"I told you to go for more drinks and left you there, then I asked the lady to keep an eye on you and that’s all.”

Dilandau didn’t knew how to react, he had made a fool out of himself in front of Chesta nonetheless; in a sense that was a good thing: he wasn’t going to talk about it with the others even if pressured.

“Listen Chesta, what happened last night I want you to forget it, understood?!” he looked the blond to the eye, “and to never speak about it with someone else, do you get it?”

Chesta gulped and nodded, “Yes, sir!”

“Now I need you to tell me, have you spoken about it with somebody else?”

“No, sir!”

“Good, good; you may leave.”

When Dilandau was at least alone in the meeting room he sat, heavily, in one of the chairs and laughed like a maniac. That’s all he could do at this point, he had made assumptions with the few clues he had and let the worse scenario play in his mind. A part of him wanted to forget about this mess but another, a smaller and impish one, didn't; it had been so surreal that it was worth to remember.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it took me ages to post it the last minute! I hope you've enjoyed this fic and sorry if it wasn't as NSFW as expected and really out of character; I hope it wasn’t that obvious who had taken Dilandau to rest at the inn.
> 
> *Yaifa is a fan name of the slayer that wears glasses; it’s actually the name of another character from the shounen manga, but both look so similar that Drkstars proposed it as his series’ name. I used Ryoun there because the blond slayer that hangs out with megane!slayer looks like a blond Ryoun.


End file.
